


armaggeddon never looked so good

by kill_your_carrlings (slightanxietyatthedisco)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: 8.17, Angst, Character Death, Dean Winchester - Freeform, Destiel - Freeform, M/M, Mentions of Suicide, Oneshot, castiel - Freeform, naomi - Freeform, naomi is a fucking bitch, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-14
Updated: 2016-07-14
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:10:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7476348
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slightanxietyatthedisco/pseuds/kill_your_carrlings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em>And as the angel stares down at Dean's unmoving body, he thinks vaguely he should be sobbing, angry, sinking the guilty blade into his own heart, because, well - weren't they family once?</em>
</p><p> </p><p>  </p><p> </p><p>  <em>But Castiel feels nothing at all. </em></p>
            </blockquote>





	armaggeddon never looked so good

"You don't have many choices, Castiel," she says. "Don't mess this up." 

He hears her very distantly, like she's something perched in the back of his head - but he understands all the same. Don't mess this up, Castiel. Don't do what you always do. 

The thing is, he can't help it. 

Naomi sighs, and he can hear the discontent, too, the way it lies at the flat of her voice - and then she marches away, off to some cushioned, office chair, where she can watch him fail in comfort and solitude. 

Cas sighs, too. _What am I supposed to do?_

Like a painful reminder, Naomi's voice echoes again - _don't mess this up, Castiel_ \- and he grits his teeth, forcing himself through the open door of the warehouse. Truth be told, Cas knows what he has to do. He doesn't have very many choices at all, and anyway, he only has to do this once,right? If he succeeds, Naomi will let him go. 

If he succeeds.

The door slams shut behind him, earning a wince and a slight flicker of distaste. As expected, all lights are off, blanketing the room in a sturdy cover of darkness. Maybe that should be comforting - at least the angel doesn't have to watch what his hands are doing - but Castiel's first thought is, embarrassingly, _oh, that's not good_ , because the thing about hunters, the thing that keeps them alive, is that they grow up so sure of themselves in the dark... 

Castiel's hand tightens instinctively around the knife. He's just got to get this over with, is all - 

"Cas?" 

And just like that, he's frozen, barely moved an inch since the door jerked shut - _oh, please, no..._

"Cas, where are you? I - I need you, buddy, you're the last one I've got." 

The voice is getting closer, stronger, not so hesitant, and - _oh, Father in heaven_ \- it's so familiar, so _welcoming_ , because he knows that voice, knows every rough, grating word, the way it catches when something's gone wrong... 

_Not real,_ Castiel tells himself sternly. But he has to repeat the mantra several times over until he can focus again, slip into predatorial instincts so rusty he's almost forgotten them. Like how he listens to the careful footsteps, echoing closer, the way he knows his target is drawing near, standing barely inches behind him, and if he just turned about, just closed his eyes and _struck_... 

_Not real, not real, not real -_

"Cas?" 

Like a viper, Cas spins around, raising his knife automatically to deliver a blow he knows will strike the heart, and he can almost do it, he can almost do it... 

_"Cas?"_

And Castiel just _breaks_ , at Dean's voice, at his eyes, at the way he sounds so pained, so _broken_ , like this betrayal is everything to him, and it is, it must have been, because they were family once, because family is like the world, and he can't, he can't, he _can't_... 

Castiel drops the knife from slack hands, letting it fall to the floor - "I'm sorry, Dean," he whispers, timid, helpless, everything a warrior, and _angel_ is not... _"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so sorry - "_

And he thinks maybe Dean might have forgiven him, maybe there was the slightest flicker of hope in emerald eyes he has memorised...but this isn't Castiel's mind anymore, it's Naomi's, and she has no time for pity. 

Dean has barely opened his mouth when his entire body goes stiff, drops in a way Castiel never could have engineered with his own hands, and when the lights flicker on, it's not the familiar hunter standing there, but Naomi. 

"Number one," she says distastefully, looking at Dean's fallen, bloodstained figure. She drops her knife, too, except it's dripping crimson, pouring apathy. "You've failed me, Castiel." 

_I know,_ he thinks. _I know._

But the true failure, the one she's so, horribly, disgusted by, is that Castiel can barely hold back tears.

~!~ 

There is very little progress. 

Number 21 calls him family, and the angel blade falls again, this time through numb fingers and unwilling hands. Naomi has to kill that one, too, and it takes another three angels to hold Castiel back. Later, she thinks she hears him whimpering. 

Number 59 grasps his hand, desperate and pleading, and Castiel falls into his arms. Apologising over and over. 

When Naomi kills that one, Castiel almost plunges the angel blade into his own chest. He isn't whimpering this time, thankfully. Just silent tears, glistening under the ugly warehouse lights. 

Tears are pathetic. 

Number 112 kisses him, rough, hard, and possessive, all clinging hands and clever tongue. Castiel disappears, discovered nearly three hours later in a silent corner. He is muttering under his breath, something about the string theory and how it affects the bees. The pitiful thing is, he hasn't even stopped crying, after all that time, still eyes bright red and swollen. Naomi sneers and stalks away, making sure Cas can see the bloodied knife clutched in her fingertips. 

_"Dean,"_ Castiel whispers, and oh, how he wishes he could be home... 

Number 235 kisses him again, careful and soft and pleading, and all Castiel can do is kiss back until Naomi hits the lights. Castiel tries to take the knife through his own chest after that, but no one will let him.

 _What soldier doesn't kill?_ he wants to yell. _Why can't I die in his place?_

He would do it in a heartbeat, and Naomi knows. It's the thing she wants so desperately to be rid of. 

Castiel doesn't move the entire night. He thinks that if he holds his breath long enough, he will die. And maybe then, he might know what Dean feels. 

Number 418 is injured, a small victory, in Naomi's eyes. Castiel manages to shove the blade into Dean's shoulder, although the angel is sobbing for hours afterwards. "I need you," Dean had whispered, right before Naomi cut him down. 

Cas wants to kill Naomi, too. 

At 665, Castiel is sobbing before he enters the room. He doesn't even try to find Dean, but it's no use - Naomi cuts the imitation down, and deposists the body in front of Cas's trembling figure. 

Number 702 calls him "my angel." Castiel manages to stab the hunter's right lung and then runs away, not found for the rest of the night. 

Number 843 pleads. 

Castiel resorts to using his fists on number 892. Dean just lays there and takes it. 

914 swallows a mouthful of blood and whispers, "I loved you." 

952 says, "We were family, Cas." 

Number 997 breaks him. He finds Cas with cold, beautiful emerald eyes and whispers, "You are nothing to me." Naomi doesn't have to kill that one. 

Number 998 cries out, but Castiel doesn't bother to flinch. 

Number 1000 begs, on his knees with green eyes dripping, and he is dead before he hits the ground. 

Number 1002 doesn't have time to breath. 

Number 1003 crumples to the floor, and Naomi hits the lights. "Well done, Castiel," she announces, watching Dean's blood slip merciless to the floor. "Crying days are over now, yes?" 

"Yes." 

"Good," she says. Approving. "Welcome to the family, Castiel." 

And as the angel stares down at Dean's unmoving body, he thinks vaguely he should be sobbing, angry, sinking the guilty blade into his own heart, because, well - _weren't they family once?_

But Castiel feels nothing at all. 


End file.
